A Rough Draft of an untitled poem

Here is the real version:

Could you journey with me
'long any path or any way,
to watch the sighing pine tree sway
as heralds in her branches say,
"Today! Today! Aha! Today!"

'Long this path, long seconds pass,
and longing is a concept passed;
a relic of a broken past,
But not of a new today.

For they to whom
the ladies come and go,
to the sphere musicians of Cicero
and the earthy men of Athens' Know,
find themselves, though thinking best,
at best arrive to hell's limbo.

I found myself a Little Giddy
with Lewis, Elliot, and the Lady.
Shall all be well!?
Shall all be well!?
Said they: "Son quit thy blunted yell,
in faith the saints to kneeling fell,
so fall ye to your knees as well.

When on high crags in circles run,
Beneath the ruling, rising sun,
take heed that thou art not outdone,
by fiends against the risen Sun.

And hope, dear soul, in sinful night,
When dragons 'tempt to take their 'right.'
It is not you,
Nor your own might.
Nor should you hope to win this fight.
Hope in providential light.

And then be
Where fountains flow with charity,
and the sharpened voice of children sing.

Among the heavens moved by Love,
The new today is timeless.
New you knew, or thought you knew,
but now you know,
as blessed ladies come to show
they know by smile this:
Love commanding and compelling.
Yea there when called ye well shall go."